


These are the things I never will learn

by Lothiriel84



Series: There was this Bad Guy (let's call him Bad Guy) [1]
Category: MarsCorp (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bogeyman, Creepy Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentions of Myth & Folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 16:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15755562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: If I shed all my liquid and let myself dry outI'll shrivel and sleep for some 15 odd years





	These are the things I never will learn

Dull. Everything about his current situation was so utterly, unspeakably dull that he was positive his brain might just shrivel and die out of sheer boredom.

The notion that all of this was retribution for rebelling against the Big Guy Upstairs was of little to no consequence to him. He had to get out of this place – though _place_ was an incredibly loose description for somewhere outside time and space – somehow.

A mind like his couldn’t bear going to waste; he’d known from a very young age that he was destined for big things, and he wasn’t going to let any temporary setback in his plans deter him from seeking out what he wanted. Sure, he might have to subject himself to the indignity of his assigned task for a few more centuries, but he was absolutely confident he was going to find a way out of this, eventually.

Collecting ‘naughty’ children, whatever that meant, from any of the infinite universes and locking them in a dark room for an indefinite amount of time was a terminally stupid plan of action, even for the Big Guy Upstairs. How could solitary confinement ever prove to be in any way reformative was far beyond his comprehension; if anything, it either made the convicts more resentful, or ended up breaking them beyond repair.

Still, it wasn’t up to him to question the wisdom of such a system; it wasn’t as if he cared about any of those snotty kids, not when he was the one condemned to an eternity of menial labour in the first place. The one thing that made his days remotely bearable was plotting his own escape, as well as that of his sole assistant and soon-to-be partner in crime, who had been doing this job for a few thousand years before he was sent there to supervise him.

Speaking of which, Patrick was taking rather a lot of time to secure their latest victims, far more than he was supposed to; as useful as the big idiot proved to be on occasion, he still didn’t trust him not to cock it all up big time when left to his own devices for too long. He tucked away his notes on the trans-dimensional portal he’d been secretly working on ever since his arrival in the World Between Worlds, and went downstairs to check on his dim-witted underling.

“Mr Velvet, I thought I had been clear – what in the multiverse do you think you’re doing now?”

Patrick didn’t move from where he was squatting on the floorboard, his huge bulk oddly still yet subtly vibrating with either excitement, or pleasure. He rolled his eyes and stalked towards him, only to freeze in his tracks when he finally noticed the tiny figure cradled between Patrick’s forelimbs, looking for all the world like it was trying to _pet_ his hideous head.

“Oh, Patrick, who is this?”

“I’m sorry, Master, I couldn’t send him away,” Mr Velvet’s booming voice resonated in the empty hall. “He’s just so – cute.”

“He’s not one of ours,” Colin shook his head, regarding the intruder with veiled interest. He’d long lost count of all the children they’d been collecting over the years – or however long he’d been in this blasted non-place where time was nothing but a meaningless abstraction – but if there was one thing those little pests had in common, it was how viscerally terrified of Mr Velvet they invariably were.

This one here looked perfectly content to treat the creature everyone else regarded as a horrifying monster as some sort of gigantic pup – much to Patrick’s delight, apparently.

“You really shouldn’t be here, buddy,” he addressed him at length, his voice sounding surprisingly gentle to his own ears. “What’s your name?”

“David Knight, Blue.”

Holy Shareholders, it was starting to sound suspiciously like the sproglet actually came from his home planet. He crouched down in front of him, carefully ignoring the voice at the back of his head that couldn’t but agree with Patrick’s earlier statement; the child did look awfully cute, his big sad eyes silently begging to let him stay.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want you here, it’s just – this is a horrible place, David. Besides, your parents will probably be wondering where you are by now.”

Sudden tears filled the boy’s eyes, his lips trembling in the effort of stifling his sobs. Patrick emitted some sort of garbled cooing sound before gathering the child to himself, his palps rubbing soothing circles onto his back.

“My parents hate me,” David sobbed into Patrick’s fur. “They always say I’m a disgrace to the entire family, and they can’t wait for the bogeyman to come and collect me.”

A bitter, burning feeling settled in the vicinity of Colin’s stomach, the faded memory of his own dreadful childhood. How dare those – _morons_ address their own flesh and blood that way, let alone make empty threats on his own account? He was going to show them, oh yes he was; they were going to be ever so sorry before he was finished with them, he would make sure of that.

“You know what, I think there’s plenty of room for a slip of a boy like you in the attic. Take him upstairs, Patrick, make sure he feels at home in his new home.”

Before he knew it, he had an armful of human child clinging gratefully onto his neck, his tiny arms unexpectedly strong for their size. Taken aback, he surrendered to the foreign sensation – one he did not know what to call, yet still felt like a blessing for his ice-cold, shrunken heart.

“Thank you, Sir. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Oh, please, call me Colin.”

As it didn’t look like little David was going to let go of him anytime soon, he stood up, balancing the boy onto his right arm. “Actually, Patrick, never mind. I’m going to show our guest around myself.”

Mr Velvet grinned, clicking his palps together to express his approval.


End file.
